


sparkling like the night sky

by thunderstorms_and_snow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Beauxbatons, Bisexual Harry, Bisexual John, Case Fic, Cedric Diggory Lives, Christmas, Eventual Romance, F/F, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts, Homophobia, Lesbian Irene, M/M, Mind Palace, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta Read, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Sherlock Speaks French, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sorry about that by the way, Teenagers, Triwizard Tournament, Violence, Work In Progress, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:29:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27385732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderstorms_and_snow/pseuds/thunderstorms_and_snow
Summary: The Triwizard Tournament comes to Hogwarts in John's fifth year and with it the Beauxbatons students.Sherlock being one of the Beauxbatons students.Oh and I promise Irene will not try to seduce Sherlock so i actually made them cousins in this. Irene is flirting with girls in thisThe yule ball will be so fun in this (I had a lot of fun writing it)Oh and since hedric might not exactly get the spotlight here i might write a oneshot about them too...
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 25





	1. The Arrival at Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited about this... this will probably go throughout most if not all of the goblet of fire book. posting this as i write. so yes, this is a work in progress.

John Watson was beyond excited. This evening the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would arrive. His excitement was shared by just about every single other student in the entire castle. In the last week, no other topic of conversation besides the Triwizard Tournament arose, so when it was finally there, the joy and expectations were nearly bubbling over. 

He, like every other student could not await the evening when the foreign witches and wizards would arrive. The students at Hogwarts rushed through their day, with the evening coming closer and closer. The Great Hall was neatly decorated for their guests and the fact that the last lesson would end half an hour early did not lessen the happiness of anyone besides maybe Professor Snape who had to shorten his lesson with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. 

•

Sherlock Holmes was shivering. Irene was huddled right beside him in an effort to share body heat as Sherlock was not allowed to light a fire in a flying vehicle with mostly wood as the material. Irene was cursing the situation out, it was 'cold as balls', according to her. Sherlock himself did not really swear at all but could agree with his cousin's statement. But thankfully, they were apparently approaching Hogwarts, since the teeth clappering of their classmates lessened and the joyous "Nous arrivons, finalement!" increased. 

•

Every Hogwarts student watched with eager when the other schools were supposed to arrive. "It's a bird!" "No you buffoon, it's a flying house". They were both wrong. A gigantic carriage, led by abnormally large pegasi landed. Out of it came the pastel-blue clothed girls and boys of Beauxbatons. 

•

'Finally', Sherlock thought, when their headmisstress lead them into the castle to prevent her students from dying of hypothermia. They passed some of the Hogwarts students on their way in and all their eyes were on them. Sherlock noticed a million things at one, like how many students were staring at him (7 out of the 32 students in that pack), who was popular (12/32), who was his age (8/32) and who would want to participate (26 of them, maybe 27). But then they passed the group and entered the British Wizarding School. 

In the Great Hall with the weather-accurate sky, Irene dashed towards him and flung her arms around Sherlock. "Can you refrain from using me as your 'heat-pillow' everywhere at any given moment?", Sherlock grunted. "Ooh, like you're above the need for body heat, I'm cold as ice and so are you, you drama queen." He sighed. Irene was completely aware of his shivering. But she did let go of him once the Hogwarts and Durmstrang students entered. 

•

As John reentered the Great Hall alongside a few of his fellow Hufflepuffs, like 4th year Hannah Abbot, 5th year Molly Hooper, 6th year Cedric Diggory and his friendgroup, the Beauxbatons students were standing right in the middle of the room, unsure where to sit. John smiled friendly and in an attempt to wave that was forgotten soon after, raised his hand rather awkwardly. Some of the French boys and girls looked his way, a few smiling. Others smirking. Others expressionless. A curly haired boy with a pale skintone and remarkable cheekbones frowned. John shook his head at his own weird and embarrassing hand gesture and quickly got over to his table. 

During the meal he found himself looking over to the Ravenclaw table at times, using the excuse of 'veelas', that his buddies were going on about as a disguise to look at the curly-haired boy again. He was barely speaking nor eating. His eyes were mesmerising. He looked at lots of people intensely as if he was trying to read their thoughts or something. And there was something about him that kept John's attention at his person. 

•

So much new information. The stories their clothes and movement told Sherlock. Irene, who was sitting next to him, kept constant eye contact with an asian girl a few metres down the table. "Sherlock, 2 am sharp, what can you tell me about her?", she asked at some point during the feast. "Other than that the girl has captured your attention?" She furrowed a brow. Sherlock sighed:"Fine. 5th year. Girl next go her is her best friend. Upset, possibly because of the mail this morning, which contents revealed something she did not like, also likely it had something to do with her older brother. Tense relationship. She does sports. Quidditch. From her build and movement I am assuming seeker. Currently not in a relationship as far as I can tell. That's enough to be going on with her, don't you think? Go ahead. Make your move." Irene flashed her pearly white teeth in a shark-like, sarcastic smile. She got up from her seat and walked over to where the girl was sitting, blaming the food over there as the reason for her visit. She quickly fell into conversation with the girl. Sherlock was almost smirking. 

With boredom settling in, Sherlock let his gaze drift over students, deducing. Looking at the nearby table of Gryffindors, he watched and observed. That redheaded boy- fourth year, many siblings, poor family and fairly infatuated with Fleur. The boy next to him not so much, he had black har and glasses and- and was Harry Potter. Sherlock was sitting right in front of the two, just one table in between, looking at the back of a girls head. Muggleborn. Hard-working and very invested in school work. But right between her head and Harry's, Sherlock saw a Hufflepuff immediately looking away. Hmm. Could be interesting.

•

John's face was turning a colour deeper than the cherry juice Molly, right next to him, was drinking. "Are you alright, mate?",Mike asked him. "Have you swallowed something you didn't mean to?, Molly wondered. John shook his head and assured them he was fine. But he was deeply embarrassed. The boy caught him staring. He wasn't staring per se, he wasn't gay or anything. Maybe John actually looked at the pretty girl next to him, raven black hair in an elegant bun and deep red lips- no. Back to the full lips with a wonderful cupids bow, now smirking. Yeah, he was looking at him. Their eyes met and John was looking right into what seemed to be an ocean. The hufflepuff quickly looked back down onto his meal. Maybe later John would try to explain everything to him and turn the situation into something less embarrassing, he was good with words, having written several pieces for a smaller newspaper called 'The Strand'. For the rest of the dinner he listened along to the heated conversation Molly and Mike were having with only one ear. Afterwards he could hardly recall it, Something about the healing paste the two were experimenting on. John tried to push the curly-haired french boy out of his mind and instead focused on the phone Harry had given him. She wanted to stay in touch and gave it to him. John did end up bringing it with him after casting several protection spells on it. Magic and technology didn't work out well. 

Dumbledore then held his speech and announced that by tomorrow evening the champions will have been chosen. He set up the goblet and the feast ended. 

When he left the Great Hall, the dark-haired boy with the confusing eyes he'd been looking at also approached the door. John held the door open and the boy slipped through. "Listen,"John called after him, determined to make things right immediately. He let the phone fall into his pocket. "Apologies for that, it was a bit weird, I just... you look like someone I knew..." The boy frowned. Then he let his gaze wander, staring at John intently, as if he were scanning him. "Hmmm... Afghanistan or Iraq?", he asked after a few moments. John's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Sorry what?" The boy's frown deepened even further. "Your father. Which one was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" John's face showed wonder and confusion. "Afghanistan... sorry, how did you-" the pretty girl that sat next to him during dinner interrupted them by walking right through the middle of the doorway, blocked by the two faster eaters who decided to leave early. She hooked her arm into his and dragged him along. "It went splendidly. For a first conversation that is-" John couldnt hear the rest of what the girl said as the two of them disappeared at what seemed to be light speed compared to Johns apparent inability to move at all. 

•

Sherlock tried to not let his annoyance show too much. He wasnt his even sure why he was annoyed at Irene for interrupting his conversation with the boy. 

But then again the next thing he would have said would have been hurtful and rude so he tried to not be bothered too much by it all. Instead he listened to the carriage door at night to hear who left it to put their name into the goblet of fire. He himself did not plan to try, he knew of the age restriction and of Dumbledores skill in wizardry. Sherlock was at Hogwarts because he found Beauxbatons to be tiring at times. New faces to deduce, a new setting for his experiments and new secrets to discover had intrigued him. 

The next morning Sherlock was one of the first at breakfast, with the intention of eating an apple and packing some things to experiment on later that day. The Goblet of Fire was positioned in the middle of the Great Hall. Sherlock observed some of the possible contestants and tried to deduce who would win. He already knew that Fleur would end up being the Beauxbatons champion, having known her for several years, especially close when Irene and her were an item. She didn't hate him and he could tolerate her but they did not appreciate the other's company enough to be more than acquaintances. Yet when she put her name into the goblet they locked eyes for a moment. His eyebrow raised when she exchanged her snobby expression for a neutral one and turned around to leave. Interesting. 

However, he did not anticipate to see the boy from yesterday again. Said boy locked eyes with him rather sooner than later and scrambled out of his seat. Sherlock, neither wanting to get beat to a pulp nor get sent back to Beauxbatons for causing a scene followed his natural instinct and fled. 

•

John was having none of it. He stormed after the boy who, despite his lanky appearance could compete in the running Olympics. But John knew the castle better and found a shortcut. Unfortunately he came through the secret tunnel at the same time the boy passed and they bumped together and both landed on the floor. "No, you won't run, stop it!" He rose his arm and the boy flinched. Johns face fell. "Were you- hey sorry... i don't want to hit you or hurt you in any way." The crease between the dark haired boys eyebrows deepened in disbelief. "That's... odd." John carefully asked:"What is?" "I can't detect a lie." John was baffled. "Well, cause I'm not. Lying. I just want to know who you are and how you knew about my father." The boy nodded. "I didn't stalk you or anything, if that's what you're concerned about. I just saw you were muggleborn and alongside a few other things, noticed the dog tags. And you were obviously too young, and while your brother or uncle would work, father is more likely." "What other things" The boy looked at him in wonder. He then caught himself and started speaking again at a pace which seemed to be reserved for only him as noone else John knew of could ratter down facts in such a rush. "I know he was a muggle and that he was an army doctor and you aspire to be a doctor too. Magical though. So healer. I know he hasn't got a good relationship with you or your brother, but with him especially. And I noticed your mobile device. Your brother gave it to you. Harry is worried about you and wants to stay in touch but you dont approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his girlfriend. And due to a traumatic event your muggle therapist thinks that limp you had was psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. But you're not limping anymore, are you? That's enough to be going on with, don't you think? Oh and the name's Sherlock Holmes." John was baffled. "That was amazing. Incredible." "You really think that?", the boy asked sheepishly. "Of course, it was quite... brilliant." Sherlock frowned. "That's not what people usually say." "Well, what do people usually say?" Sherlock smirked. "Piss off" John laughed at that. Sherlock joined in. "So what are you doing today, want me to give you a tour of the castle?", John grinned. Sherlock thought about that. "Do you know any secret passages?" "Sure!" John smiled evilish, something very unlike him. Sherlock could tell, he was an expert on people. And he accepted.


	2. Spending some Time Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean the title is kind of self- explanatory, isnt it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh, this was fun. I hope you'll enjoy.

After jogging through several floors, John halted at a statue of an old hag. "Let me find out how it opens", Sherlock excitedly said. He walked around the statue several times, eyes everywhere. John eyed him in wonder. Sherlock noticed but decided to act like he didn't. "The hump. That's where it opens. A password. Now that I can't know." "It's Dissendium.", John informed him. The hump immediately opened. "No Gunhilda, not now." It closed again. Sherlock smiled slightly. John returned it brightly. Then Sherlocks expression straightened. It was as if he was guarding himself. But John was planning on breaking through those walls. "Umm, may I ask where your potioneering facilities are located?" "The dungeons. It's near the Slytherin dormitories." "Lead the way then." 

While descending the stairs, John remarked: "The Potions Master is Professor Snape. His presence is a bit unpleasant at times." "Oh. Well my presence is unpleasant at all times, so I'm sure we'll get along splendidly." John gulped. He tried to suppress a grin but it didn't really work. "Your facial expression suggests physical pain, please tell me I'm wrong." They've reached the dungepns by now. "Oh, not at all, I'm-" the door opened and Professor Snape almost ran into them. "Watson. What are you doing here?" "Sir, I'm just showing him around." "Sherlock Holmes." Their stares met. It was a battle of the giants. "You should not be here unsupervised." Snape motioned for them to go and they slowly left the dungeons.

"Sorry about that", John said quietly. "Hm? Oh no it's fine. He's very interesting. And i have my own kettle and ingredients with me. I plan to experiment on acids today." John smiled at him so warmly, some of the warmth settled in Sherlocks stomach. "Can I assist you?" And Sherlock just couldn't say no to that, could he? 

After Sherlock and John got said kettle and ingredients, they settled down in a small room in one of the highest floors, a cozy place with windows. John liked to come there to think. They worked in almost complete silence. John was fine at potions, he didn't really like it but maybe he would once he spent enough time with Sherlock. Sometimes Sherlock asked him to stir or to give him something but mostly he just sat there. After about 20 minutes of comfortable silence, a conversation ensued. Sherlock taught him a spell that conjured what muggles called nitric acid. Sherlocks interest lay both in potioneering and chemistry. He found both the wizarding and the non-wizarding aspects of the broad subject equally enthralling. And the way he talked about it, animatedly, hands in the air, smile on his face, John thought he could really see Potions becoming his favourite subject. 

After Sherlock had set his experiments aside to cool down and develop, they started talking about other things as well. "Who do you think will be champion?" "Well", Sherlock answered, deep in thought, "Beauxbatons it's clear. Fleur." John didnt know who he was talking about. "Is that the Black haired girl who said next to you yesterday?" "No, that's Irene. Fleur is a blonde. Her grandmother was a Veela I assume. I'd always found it rude to ask so I'm not sure but I think so." John nodded. "Can you point her out later at dinner?" Sherlock replied smugly: "I'm sure you'll see her well enough once she gets chosen." John laughed quietly. "Durmstrang? I say Krum" "And you would be totally right. Karkaroff favors him, the others don't have a chance compared to him and he's clearly strong-willed." "And what about Hogwarts?" Sherlock seemed go have to think about that. "I don't know... So far I know of only six people to have put their name in. Surely there must be more, but since I don't even know all the names I cant actually make a reasonable guess..." "Well there's Cedric Diggory. Sixth year... He's 17 and also in my house." "I'm guessing a friend of yours?" "Yeah..." "What other options are there? And who do you think will it be, you're the expert here." "I think Angelina from the Gryffindors put her name in and some Slytherin quidditch player too... But I'm hoping it's Cedric." They had been sitting there for quite a while. It was afternoon already. "Do you want to go into the Great Hall, you could try to find out by doing your observation thing." "It's called a deduction. And yes. But first I'd like to see your library." 

The Beauxbatons boy was impressed by the library, calling it "gigantic" and "wonderful". While they wandered around, Sherlock found a book on untreatable poisons and John found out that Mary Morstan, his ex-girlfriend and fairly good friend, was now apparently dating somebody, as Madam Pince shooed her and someone else out of the library, exclaiming: "No kissing in the library! If you dont want to study or read, you can leave!"

"Ex girlfriend, i suppose?" Sherlock came out of nowhere. "How the bloody hell do you know that?" "So she is" Sherlock smirked and dissappeared behind a shelf. John followed him but after rounding the corner of the shelf, Sherlock was gone. 

John spent a little more time at the library but Sherlock didn't show up again. After a while, he returmed to the Hufflepuff common room, where he bumped into Diggory. "Cedric!" "John" "I heard you entered, is that true?" "Yes, I'm going to try it. And get Hufflepuff some more recognition!" "Way to go man, I'm sure you'll do great. I believe in you!" They smiled at each other. "Thanks buddy... I uh, I was actually just leaving so..." Cedric waved him goodbye. John smiled in return. He flopped down on an armchair next to Molly. "Where have you been all day?" "Oh i was showing around a Beauxbatons student." "So you're trying to top Three-House Watson then and youre trying to get a French girl?", assumed Mike, just having entered from the dormitories. John went red at an instant. "No, I... It's not even a girl and im not trying to get him! I'm not gay!" Molly and Mike decided to not dive into it any further and just leave it be. Johns sister Harry was a lesbian and their parents weren't supportive of it. The subject was a bit intense for John. 

"Greg was here. Wanted to play Quidditch with you." "Right, I completely forgot about it!" Since the official Quidditch season was cancelled this year, John played Quidditch with some friends on the weekends, to keep themselves fit and for the fun found in the game. Mike and Molly were both disasters on a broom. But Mary, Greg, John, Mike's girlfriend Stella, Cho and a few others had founded this small group at the beginning of the year. From time to time Cedric and some of his friends joined them too. So John reminded himself to apologise to Greg and Mary later and continued to talk to Molly and Mike. 

"So this bloke i was talking about earlier, his name is Sherlock Holmes and he's a bit of a genius I think." "What, no way", Mike let out. "No, I swear! He knew about my father! And Harry! Just like that, he observed, or deduced it!" "That's insane.", Molly said then. "I know it is, but i spent the whole day with him and I think we could actually be friends" "I dont know John, but if you like him, maybe introduce him to us." "I dont like him. Like that i mean," Molly and Mike exchanged a quick look. The conversation ended soon enough as they all worked on homework seperately. 

After John had finished a transfigurations essay, they headed down to the Great Hall. The second feast in two days only was just as glorious as the one the day before, especially with the carved pumpkins elevating the Halloween spirit. John felt two feasts im two days didn't give the feasts time to be appreciated thoroughly, but sat down nonetheless. When just about every student was seated, listening to Professor Dumbledores words, he felt a tap on his back. He turned around. It was Sherlock. "Move.", he whispered. John, surprised, moved to the side. He stared at Sherlock incredulously. "What are you doing?" Sherlock set his plate, goblet and cutlery onto the table. "Eating, obviously", Sherlock replied and loaded some Shepherd's pie onto his plate. "No I mean here" "I'm not competing, that's for sure. But I have new faces to deduce, a new school to look at and a year to decide whether I want to-" "At this table." "Oh. Well I wanted to sit next to you. Talk to you. If its not okay, I'll just..." Sherlock slipped out of the bench, levitating the stuff he brought with him. John grabbed Sherlocks wrist amd pulled him back down. "No its fine. Im happy you're here, just wondering why... I thought you guys had to sit at the Ravenclaw table." Sherlock snorted "No, I guess that someone just wants to get into Chos pants" John was confused but shrugged it off. "Sherlock, I have a question." "Hm?" Sherlock had his mouth full. "Why did you leave me in the library?" "Sorry, Irene found me and dragged me off. I tried to stop her but..." He made an unreadable hand gesture. "So Irene is your... the girl with the black hair, she sat next to you yesterday, right?" "Yes." John loaded more food onto his plate and continued eating. "And she's okay with you sitting here?" "Yes, she's happy to sit at the Ravenclaw table and waved me off after I promised her to eat something." "Promised her to..." "Oh right. Food is just transport. But it slows my thinking down. Yesterday I wanted to be extra on top to deduce all the new people and I forgot to eat so she thought that was... not good". 

Mike now spoke up. "Oh hello, I'm Mike. Who are you?" He held out his hand over the table. Sherlock ogled it. Mike retracted. "Not a handshaker?" "No. Sherlock Holmes." Molly now looked over and her eyes nearly fell out of her head. She and Mike had been in deep conversation and only noticed John and Sherlock now. "M-Molly". A blush spread over her cheeks. Sherlock practically scanned them. "You're the guy Stella won't shut up about.", he then established. "Awh, that's sweet of her!", Mike remarked. Sherlock nodded, not seeming to care too much about that. "And you both dislike Quidditch I suppose? But have an affinity for healing? Interesting paste by the way, can I borrow some for an experiment?" Molly couldn't seem to get a word out. Mike eyed her with suspicion while agreeing to Sherlocks proposal. "Excellent" Sherlock then continued to nibble at his piece of Victoria sponge that John had loaded onto his plate no questions asked after he had found out about Sherlocks eating habits. 

Once Dumbledore stood up, the room rendered completely silent. He said a few words and then turned his, alongside the students and teachers attention towards the goblet. The flames turned red. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment that flew out of it. "The Durmstrang champion is...Viktor Krum" "Told you" Sherlock whispered to John, his breath hitting Johns neck. Johns skin tingled in a not entirely unpleasant way. Everyone clapped. "The Beauxbatons champion is...Fleur Delacour" "Knew it!" This time Johns eyes followed her but not in the way that some of the other boys, including Ron Weasley and Anderson gaped at her. "And the Hogwarts champion is...Cedric Diggory!" Applause ensued. John looked over to his friend. The whole Hufflepuff table was cheering. John was grinning at Cedric. Even Sherlock was standing. He leaned down to tell John: "Congratulations, you guessed right." Cedric dissappeared through the door. Dumbledore started talking about but John could only look at Sherlock who was smiling and sarcastically clapping for him. John elbowed him friendly. "Physical pain isn't going to stop me." "Oh shut up, will you?" But Sherlock actually shut up and whipped his head into the direction of the goblet. "Sherlock, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude i-", John started but then realised why Sherlock was looking away. The fire turned red once more. Instinctively, Dumbledore caught it. "Harry Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah the reaction will be in the next chapter. BTW, the next one will go up until like the first task, so don't be mad if it takes a little longer.


	3. Isn't this nice?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some everyday stuff. and confusing feelings of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it came out longer than I expected so I split it in two. Still working on the next part.

Sherlock looked devastated. "What? I did not predict that!" John was stumped. Harry stood up, looking pale as ever, and slowly walked up the Great Hall like it was his own funeral march. Not even Dumbledore smiled. After Harry they soon entered the chamber too, sending the other students away. Most of them stood up and left, John amd Sherlock being some of the last one to get up. "John, this may sound crazy but..." John stared at him sideways. "I dont think Harry put his name in." "Sherlock, what makes you say that? Harry's name got spit out of the goblet. Surely he must have found a way to cheat. Anything else doesnt make sense." "No, that's the conclusion most would draw. The other possibility, seemingly unlikely but much more probable than the 'obvious' ", he highlighted that word by mimicking apostrophes with his fingers, "conclusion, is that someone older put his name in without Harry's knowledge or consent. Did you not see Harry's face, posture or surprise? Someone is forcing him to do something he doesn't want to do." "Are you sure? What if he acted?" Sherlock gave him a 'Really?' look. "He has no motive. And that wasn't acting. I mean do you actually think that someone who has been in no less than four life threatening situations, quidditch non-included, would willingly enter a tournament in which people have died before? And its not because he seeks fame, because he doesn't. Have you seen him? He's famous by birth but his upbringing taught him to not be affected by that. He doesn't want the fame and he doesn't want to die.", Sherlock tattered down, now breathless. John considered that. "I know it's your emotional impulse, Cedric is your friend and not the attention he deserves is shifted towards a boy already dripping of said attention. But please remain logical so we can get to the why." John breathed in and out deeply. "Youre right, you're absolutely right!", he admitted. "that was amazing", he then muttered. And is Sherlock, before continuing to talk again, straightened up the tiniest bit and smiled a little, neither of them would mention it. "So why..." "Well why? Does someone want Harry to die? Or to get the money? Or the attention?", John asked Sherlock. Sherlock, having his hands folded unter his chin, then said "Haven't the faintest. Tomorrow." John nodded and they parted ways. 

The next morning was a Sunday. John was seated at the Hufflepuff table and enjoying a Full English Breakfast when Sherlock joined him. "Suspects for putting Harry's name in.", he began. John turned to face him. Sherlock was wearing a light blue button-up that was straining slightly at the top buttons. John tried to focuse on his face but that was not helpful. Instead he listened to what he had to say. "I believe the goblet was tricked into thinking there are four schools instead of three and Harry Potters name got entered as the only participant for the last school. To confuse a magical object this powerful you would need advanced magical knowledge, especially in the dark arts and, obviously, be over 17 in order to actually cross the age line that Dumbledore has drawn." That made John think. "So it could've only been the Durmstramg and Beauxbatons students, 7th and some of the 6th years, staff and organisers." Then John looked at Sherlock. "Oh, perhaps I should mention, it isn't me.", Sherlock said flatly. "I didn't assume that", John defended himself. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I know fairly much about the case, most people would at least-" "Well, I'm not most people." That must've caught Sherlock off guard, since he didnt respond immediately. "Are you even 17?" "Turning 16 in January, actually" "Well then we're both off the list.", John explained. "Ill be joining you in classes, we can look through the staff and you can help me observe the suspected students." John smiled. "I didn't know you guys were gonna join us in classes." "What else did you think we'd do all year?" John shrugged. "Haven't really thought about it." John now realised that Sherlock hadn't eaten anything. He pointed to one of his sausages. "Try them, theyre really good." "No thank you" John loaded one onto Sherlocks plate anyways. "So, what do you want to do today?" "I think I'd like to go around the castle again. Starting with the Owlery, my brother expects a letter from me." John nodded. "Fine, we can do that, good idea." Sherlock stood up. John added "After we've eaten." Sherlock contemplated. He could go alone without eating or eat a sausage and have John's company. Reluctantly he demolished the stupid sausage and took a swig of water from his goblet. John stood up and he lead the way. 

"Tell me about your brother", John suddendly said, jumping around rhythmically to not be hit by owl poop. Sherlock scoffed "Tell me about yours" That made John suppress a giggle. "You already know" Sherlock looked at him "Did I get something wrong?" John tried not to smile at the other boys horrified expression "Harry's my sister. But yes, Clara was her girlfriend, theyre this on again, off again thing." "Sister!", Sherlock cursed. "There's always something!" "But you were completely right with everything else.", John tried to console him. Sherlock finished writing the letter, rolled it up and tied it to a school owls foot. The owl took off. "He's an official at the ministry. Well, more like he is the ministry. His name is Mycroft." "So he works for the French ministry of magic. What else?" Sherlock frowned. "He doesn't. He's the British Government. Magical and non-magical." "You aren't French?" They looked at each other. "Im half- French. Maman is french and wanted me to go to her old school. Our home however, the Holmes manor, my fathers heritage, lies in northern England.", Sherlock explained. "Oh and I was already wondering why you spoke English accent-free." "I'm fluent in three other languages as well but i dont have five parents." John laughed. "Oh really?" They descended the staircase of the Owlery. "Like what?" Sherlock ticked off of his fingers. "English, French, German, Russian and Italian, plus Latin, but you can't technically speak that and enough Spanish and Bulgarian to pass." Then he made a few symbols with his hands. "Seriosly, sign language?" Sherlock nodded. Then he tapped several times on John's arm. 

\-- --- .-. ... . -.-. --- -.. . - --- ---

" 'Morse Code too', yeah i know, i can do that myself." Now in a corridor, they turned towards the library. "Say something in German then" "Was soll ich denn sagen, John? Irgendwas bestimmtes oder soll ich einfach vor mich her labern?" John looked genuinely surprised. "Was, hast du mir nicht geglaubt?" "Sherlock, the language barrier", John reminded him. "Oh, desolée, tu ne compris pas?", Sherlock tried in French. John started laughing. "English, please!" "Pourquoi? C'est trop facile! " Now they were both laughing. "Okay stop it!" "Alright, alright!", Sherlock replied. 

Sherlock checked out a book on potions on Johns name and John proposed to spend some time in the Hufflepuff common room. "There'll be people!" Sherlock spat out the last word like it was some sort off horrible disease threatening the nation. The corner of John's mouth twitched into a smile. "Or we could wrap ourselves up and spend some time at the lake, it's quiet there. And quite nice, I might add." Sherlock had nothing to say against that. They sat down by a tree and John did his homework while Sherlock read in his book. Once John finished, he found Sherlock to be looking at him. "You're staring at me." "Hm?" "You were staring at me." "Does it bother you? I do that sometimes. I was thinking." John shook his head and directed his gaze toward the ground. "No, it's fine." 

They had to return to the castle eventually and John went to bed thinking about his new friend. Said friend was sitting at the Hufflepuff table the following morning with a cup of tea before him. John sat down beside him. Their legs brushed for a moment and John tried very hard not to think about that. "What are the lessons? I couldn't bring myself to find out on my own.", Sherlock asked him right when John arrived. "I don't know them completely by heart yet, but i can give you my timetable if you'd like?" Sherlock deemed that response satisfying. This morning he had tea to drink. John later gave him a piece of toast when they were going to the first class of the day, transfigurations. 

John soon found out that Sherlock was an excellent wizard. His skills in transfigurations, whether it was because of the Beauxbatons raising or just personal interest exceeded that of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. He managed the task set out by McGonagall easily and spent the remainder of the time expected for it with figuring out her animagus appearance. When John managed the task too, Sherlock asked: "A cat, isn't it?" "What is?" "Her Animagus." John nodded, not nearly as surprised as he would have been a few days ago if someone just figured an animagus out by simply looking at someone. "Extraordinary.", John breathed. "Do you notice you're doing that out loud?", Sherlock asked him in wonder. "Sorry" John was ashamed. Sherlock tried to remedy that. "No, it's... fine. Just wanted to know." They locked eyes. John looked away quickly. Sherlock hid a smirk. McGonagall, a few feet away from them shook her head. This was going to be a long, long year. 

In Charms, Sherlock was bored. "I've learned these spells during the summer already. So, I'm going to occupy myself otherwise.", he told John who'd risen his eyebrow when Sherlock pulled out a folder alongside his wand and charms book. John nailed the new hex after 5 minutes and then eyed Sherlocks binder. Sherlock probably didn't even notice him staring, or if he did he didnt mind but John didn't want to look at the contents without Sherlocks knowledge. But, as it seemed, Sherlock was in a whole nother world. His hands folded under his chin and with closed eyes, he sat still. "Okay", John decided and practiced a few harder charms he lacked knowledge at in fourth year. After a few more minutes, Sherlock moved again. "Mind telling me what you were doing?", John asked, clearly confused. To that Sherlock smiled and replied rather lamely: "Maybe later. You've finished then?" John nodded. Sherlock then stared at at the other students, practically x-raying one of them with his eyes, John thought. Every few minutes, Sherlock asked John a seemingly random question, apparently wanting to confirm his suspicions. "She's with the guy in first row, isn't she?" John frowned. "No, Kellys dating Ryan, right next to her." "Not for much longer" To that John laughed. "We'll see." 

But really, three days later the news that Kelly and Ryan had broken up reached John. He found out in Divination, practically the only class Sherlock didn't share with him. They were to meet in the library after. When John entered, the raven-haired girl, Irene, sat in front of Sherlock. Sherlock locked eyes with John and shooed her away. Irene laughed loudly and exited the library, calling out "Have fun, you boys", before she was gone. Sherlock motioned to the chair Irene just sat in. John sat down and frowned at the binder laying on the table. Sherlock had looked it in most of the lessons at least once, Potions aside. Surprosingly, he'd also given the first D.A.D.A lesson his undivided attention. "So Irene's your friend?", John asked lightly. "You could certainly say so", Sherlock said with a laugh. John, now imagining them kissing heatedly against a bookshelf, shivered. "I mean, is she your special friend?' Sherlock was confused now. "I guess so?" Sherlock thought back to all the shared summers at the Holmes Manor where Irene even assisted him with experiments at times. Irene and him were friends but did their status as cousins qualify their friendship as special? John just nodded. That was a confirmation. Sherlock and Irene were an item. Sherlock was straight. "Anyways", Sherlock then said, clearly finding the situation awkward. "you might have been asking yourself about this dossier." He motioned to the folder. Now that caught Johns attention. "Its a case. A muggle police officer send me this after my brother persuaded him to give me a chance. If i solve this cold case, he might consult me on his next crime scene." That certainly was not what John had expected. "Oh, that's..." In his lack of words he nodded. Do you congratulate someone if they get to see a dead body? "I know, right? I can't await it. And I think I solved the case but i could really use an outside opinion..." Sherlock pushed the folder towards John. Who immediately shook his head. "No, I'm not embarrassing myself in front of you like this." "But it would really be useful." John, now violently shaking his head, disagreed. "No, it won't." "John an outside opinion might-" "I'm not doing it! Why dont you ask Irene?" Sherlock sighed. "Please". 

And for some reason John sighed too and opened the folder. The first page consisted of a big picture, black and white. A man on a stretcher with something encarved onto his belly. "Okay, theres a man." "Wonderful deduction, go on", Sherlock said. John gave him the deathstare. "He has encarvings on his stomach, that's runes i think. No, hieroglyphs." Sherlock nodded. John thought Sherlock was mocking but it could also have been an encouragement. "Thats..." He leaned closer, trying to decipher it. "Ha-di, i think. Destroy." Sherlock nodded again. "Harry loved this stuff when she was my age and i read a few of her books", he explained. "But the cut is too clean. Too little blood. It was done after he died." "Incredible. What else?", Sherlock asked animatedly. "So im guessing some Egypt-nerd wanted to really destroy him" Sherlocks encouraging smile made him a bit nervous. After a bit of silence, Sherlock nodded. "Okay, that's pretty good." John frowned. "You probably have thrice the information. Sherlock had a perfect pokerface. "Go on, i wanna know now." Sherlock looked at the photo too now. ,"He was an archaeologist. Hes just returned from travel to an african country, the tan suggests that. His hair is dyed and bleached but his eyebrows arent to match it. Small scars all over his torso. And this bite-", he stopped to point at a small dot at the mans chest", is what killed him. Its clear. The man was chased and could flee without arousing suspicion due to his job as an archaeologist. The murderer followed him. So the man dyed his hair to not be recognised. In his sleep the murderer killed him with poison. Something rare, nearly undetectable. I would run tests if i were there...The murderer wanted his wife." "His wife?" "The ring is missing. There is a tanline. Where did it go, has he eaten it? No, the murderer took it. And to draw attention away from the obvious signs of poisoning, he slit open his stomach in an attempt to link it to the mans coworkers. It was a long time friend. Whos most likely pursuing the wife of this gentleman here", his fingers landed on the picture of the dead man again. "That was incredible. All just from the picture!" Sherlock looked at it again. "In hindsight its pretty obvious...", Sherlock remarked. John scoffed. "In hindsight, yes." The two looked at each other again. John looked away quickly. "Going to send this back to the police then?" Sherlock nodded. "Wish me luck" "For the chance of seeing a crime scene?" Sherlocks eyes sparkled. His lips turned up into a smile. He nodded enthusiastically. "Okay then. Sherlock took out his wand. "What are you doing?" Sherlock then gave him his 'seriously-isn't-it-obvious-?' look. John countered with his 'stop-it' glare. "I can hardly use an owl for this, can I? Officer Gregston might already think of me as sketchy or weird for offering my help with murders at the ripe age of 16. If I were to send my mail with owl... I don't think that will work out." Shwelock then proceeded to cast a few protection spells as well as the water-repel charm 'Impervious' on it and then threw it in the air. With a flick of his wand, the window opened and Sherlock moved his wand and also the folder with pictures and his letter to Gregston towards the window. The folder flew away into the sky. "Smart.", John commented. 

Later at dinner, John talked to Cedric for a bit. Sherlock was late. "So the tournament. Are you alright?" Cedric nodded. They sat on opposite sides of the table. And John couldn't not notice Cedric looking at a point over his shoulder. John decided not to bring it up, knowing he was looking at someone sitting at the Gryffindor table. Sherlock finally arrived at the table, sitting down next to John as usual. "I ran into Irene and Cho on my way back from the bathroom. Greetings from Cho, Cedric." "Oh, you're the guy Irene has told me about!" They shook hands. "Sherlock Holmes" "Cedric Diggory, but I imagine you already know that." John was chewing at his cornish pastry and eyed the two in surprise. "What?", Sherlock asked, now automatically filling his plate up as well. John had expressed his disdain for Sherlocks eating habits before and in order to shut him up, Sherlock had agreed to eat at least one meal a day. "Nothing, just didnt expect you two to get along", John explained. Cedric pointed with his fork in the general direction of Sherlock and John. "So you two know each other, then?" Sherlock frowned. "Yes, obviously." "Friends?" They looked at each other and nodded slowly in unision. Cedric raised an eyebrow. John frowned. If he knew Irene, surely he must know of her and Sherlocks relationship. Sherlock apparently regarded the conversation as finished, digging into his roasted potatoes.

The next morning, in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Sherlock slipped John a note. "Alastor Moody, Ex-Auror. Responsible for Arresting about 60% of all deatheaters" It was crazy, John thought, how Sherlock just knew when to intervene and where to help. Sherlock surely noticed Johns lack of knowledge regarding famous wizards and it being accounted to Johns muggle home and upbringing. After John read the note, he eyed the Professor more attentively. Weirdly, Moody took a big gulp out of his flask right in the middle of class. But John forgot about it soon after. 

After the class, Sherlock disappeared into the dungeons, wanting to do some research on some potion John forgot the name of. He spent the afternoon doing his homework and hanging out with Molly and Mike. It was nice. Familiar. But the two were caught up in their project of developing the healing paste and John noticed that it just didnt feel like spending time with Sherlock, whatever that meant. The thought confused John and he was overly glad to see Greg by the window, on a broom. "John, haven't seen you all week. Fancy a game?" Happy to get his mind off things, mainly Sherlock, John according his broomstick into his hand and the two spent the afternoon in the air. 

He didnt see Sherlock at dinner. John thought about going into the dungeons to get him but decided against it. He didnt really know why. He just thought that taking a small break from seeing Sherlock all the time might do him good. Eversince he found out about Irene and Sherlock he got a weird feeling, like he was somehow betraying someone if he spent too much time with Sherlock. Not that he fancied him, or boys for that matter. But he was taking time away from Irene and Sherlock. Who were together. His stomach cramped slightly at the thought. Irene, as Sherlocks girlfriend had first dibs on spending time with him and John didnt want to come between that, as a platonic companion. That was all there was to it. 

John was so lost in his thoughts, he didnt eat a single bite that night. He just stared onto his plate until Molly asked him: "Are you alright?" John nodded, trying to smile convincingly. Molly sighed in exasperation. "You're clearly not. What is it?" "Nothing!" His voice went up an octave. Molly shook her head. "Oh boy", she muttered. John now realized her hadnt eaten anything and, in a hurry to leave Molly and her questions for the night, downed a glass of pumpkin juice and a piece of quiche and fled from the Great Hall. 

•

Sherlock abandoned his experiment in frustration. His concentration was all over the place. He couldn't focus. Sherlock leant back in his chair and watched the experiment from afar. It started to blur. His eyes closed and his mind palace materialised. Unlike usually, he wasn't in the science section while experimenting. No, Sherlock was in an empty room. He looked around. What did this mean? Sherlock decided to find that out later and search for the cause if his lack of focus first. He wasn't thinking about any other experiments. He wasn't subconsciously calculating equations. Well what was he doing? Sherlock went back into the empty room. The answer must be there. It was a new room. He must have constructed it subconsciously. But it wasnt empty anymore. A boy was sitting on the floor. "What are you doing here?" John looked up at him. "I'm not here." Sherlock sat down next to him, legs crossed. "But what are you doing in my mind?" John shrugged his shoulders. Silence ensued. "If you're the reason for me not concentrating...", Sherlock started. But he didn't finish that sentence. They just continued to sit there, in the otherwise empty room. But Sherlock didn't feel bored. It felt...

nice. He looked at John. "Huh." John looked at him too.

Sherlock opened his eyes again. "Sentiment", he stated flatly, as if talking to the wall. He would have to file that under inspection for later. But for now, after having had this revelation, he came to the conclusion that finishing his experiment would be the most efficient use of his time for now. 

Once he was done, it was already dark outside. He had no idea how late it was. Probably after dinner though. So he turned in for the night. Laying in bed, he thought about John some more. But he didn't come to any conclusion so Sherlock went to sleep instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will include their first case (asip ofc) and perhaps the tournaments first task. we'll see. oh and please don't be too mad at me for the whole irene/sherlock misunderstanding. I just thought it would be wayy to funny. oh and I will include more Irene/Cho, especially flirting-wise


	4. Some 'Firsts'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first task, the first case, the first time Johns 'immovable heterosexuality' really comes up... NOT HIS DATE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got really unmotivated after the first scene left a bad taste in my mouth (brain?) and i started only like two weeks after that so... haha my chapters are getting longer and i dont know what to do about it.

The next morning, Sherlock was sitting at the Hufflepuff table when John entered, as usual. Unusually though, John indulged in a conversation with his Hufflepuff friends immediately. 

He really needed to talk to John though, so he figured his friends would have to wait. "John" he tapped on his arm. John didn't look at him. "Hey, John! I think-" "Not now Sherlock", John brushed him off. "But John..." "Later.", John groaned. Now Sherlocks walls went up again. Without having eaten anything, he stood up and left. John looked at him leave before turning his attention back to Mike and Molly. "Anyways, where was I?" "Being really rude to your friend?", Molly accused him. She looked oddly disappointed and Mike, raised eyebrows and all, nodded. "That was pretty rude..." "I-" , John tried to defend himself. He honestly didnt know why he'd done that. He loved talking to Sherlock and actually would have wanted to hear what he was saying. But John reminded himself that Sherlock had Irene. The thought made him a little sick. He wasn't jealous. John was just... 

The answer to that sentence never came to Johns mind though. Molly and Mike dropped the subject and instead asked Cedric about the tournament. John didn't listen to them. So he didn't realise the conversation with Cedric changed topics. "What's with him?", Cedric asked the two, clearly concerned. "No idea" and "Haven't the faintest", Mike and Molly simultaneously said. "He was blunt towards Sherlock earlier and now he's taking it out on the poor loaf." That was actually pretty accurate. John was slicing his bread aggressively. His bad mood didn't fade. During classes, John couldn't find Sherlock anywhere. Bummed about that, he tried to concentrate on his classes but his attention just turned back to the lanky boy and his stupid swishy hair. Mostly the lack of presence of said lanky boy. Not having paid attention in any of his classes, John came up with the conclusion that maybe avoiding Sherlock was much worse than being friends with him. He barely knew the guy for a week and not being around him already felt wrong. So John set up a few mental rules. 

1\. Sherlock and Irene were a thing. Sherlock was straight.  
2\. John wasn't jealous.  
3\. John wasn't gay.  
4\. John wasnt in love with Sherlock.  
5\. He had to get over it. Whatever 'it' was. 

At lunch John sat alone at the Hufflepuff table. Well, there were other people but no Sherlock. By now John had realised what a dick he'd been to Sherlock earlier. Sherlock deserved better than that. Sherlock wasnt responsible for John's weird behaviour or confusion. He needed to apologize. Johns gaze drifted away from Molly in front of him and to the person sitting behind her, at the Ravenclaw table. Sherlock fucking Holmes. 

• 

Sherlock was bored. Apparently John didnt want anything to do with him anymore. He thought about going to the room in his mind Palace again to perhaps demolish it since nothing would ever become out of it. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to it. Instead he shifted his attention on simething else. Like Irene's extremely obvious flirting attempts Cho didnt seem to quite catch on. Or like right now, reduced to a blushing mess, react quite intensely to. Irene literally winked at Cho. Who giggled in turn. Not totally dull. But not John. A propos John... He was standing right next to him. Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts. 

▪︎ 

This couldn't be that hard. "Sherlock." He could feel his cheeks turning red. Most of the Ravenclaws as well as Sherlock's girlfriend were looking at him. "I'm sorry, I was really rather rude earlier." Wow, smooth John. "I uh... Look Sherlock. I understand if you dont want to sit with me-" "I thought you didn't want me there?" Sherlock was the smartest person he knew yet he also seemed to maybe be a fundamental idiot. Except that John was the idiot here. "I behaved like an idiot, of course I want you sitting there." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Irene and the others had started a conversation again. Sherlock didn't stand up. So John turned the other way and went back to his table. Except that Sherlock called after him "Are you sitting down or not?" John only now realised that Sherlock had budged up and made some space for him to sit. John climbed onto the seat. Irene leaned over the table to talk to John. "So, you're the John Watson I've heard so much about." John nodded and looked her into the eyes. She had really pretty eyes. Not as pretty as Sherlocks though. Where did that thought come from? "I'm Irene Adler, I believe we've met." She held her hand out and John shook it. Cho Chang, next to her, now looked at him too. He had a few classes with her and she was part of the quidditch friendgroup. They weren't friends per se, they didn't usually hang out but they were certainly acquainted. Irene and Cho indulged in their conversation again and John now looked over at Sherlock next to him. "Hungry?", he asked him. Sherlocks eyes met his. "Not particularly." The silence between them was a bit awkward. Sherlock looked away again. John focused on something else instead. He started to eat a cornish pastry and listened to the conversation going on again. "Are you doing anything later?" Irene asked. Cho nodded. "Yeah I'm probably going to meet with the quidditch group." "Right. Yeah, ill be coming too.", John decided. "Sherlock, we should totally go too!", Irene told her boyfriend. Sherlock nodded absentmindedly. He nudged Johns arm and pointed in the general direction of the teachers table. "Observe!" Johns head turned quickly. Sherlock was pointing in the general direction of Hadrig. "Thats Hadrig, so what?" "No not the half giant." "Half giant?" "Obviously" Sherlock scoffed slightly and John snorted. He noticed Sherlocks gaze burning into the back of his head. "What am I looking at?" "Below the table" "Sherlock what-" but then he saw it. "What is that?" Something was moving in Hadrigs coat pocket. Sherlock shrugged. John surpressed a laugh and he could feel Sherlocks smile. He was so observant and made everything more interesting. They fell back into their rhythm of companionship easily. Sherlock didn't come to the quidditch practice though. Irene did. And as it turned out she was hilarious and excellent at quidditch, next to being attractive of couse. He could understand why Sherlock was into her. She and Cho were a perfect chaser team. Greg joined them, trying to keep being flexible between positions. Stella and Mary took the roles of beaters and Cedric was seeker. John himself was the keeper. They beat the other team. Quidditch was great. And so were the evenings spent in the common room. But the real highlight of his days was of course the time spent with Sherlock. Sherlock with his annoyingly accurate predictions, brutally honest comments and undeniable charme. Sherlock with his wonderful girlfriend. As the weeks progressed, he got to see more of Irene and her friend Cho too. Sometimes they sat at the Hufflepuff table with Cedric during meals. In class they often sat near Sherlock and John. He even met them in the library once and at the lake. Sherlock wanted to do an experiment at the water. He had been collecting water grasses all day long and John was just laying on the grass, looking up into the sky. It was relatively warm for November so he was fine in his jumper. Irene and Cho were doing homework under a tree as Cedric walked by. They were maybe 20 meters away from him so he didn't know what they were talking about but they were all laughing. Then Cedric turned around and waved at someone. It was Harry Potter. He waved back. The whole 'Potter stinks' thing really ruined Harry's public image. John had talked to him a couple of times, all of the conversations relating to quidditch but he could tell that Harry was genuinly a nice boy. That was why he had, seriously pissed off, talked to a few younger Hufflepuffs wearing these stupid badges. Cedric, Mike, Molly and a few people in Cedric year, like Nathan, Alex and Claire were also sick of the badges and had decided to tell off people. Cedric walked over to him. Irene and Cho were watching the two and giggling. John decided to look back to Sherlock who was now standing knee-deep in the lake. "I didn't know this lake had mermaids", he exclaimed. 

After a long explanation from Sherlock on the different patterns on stones that indicated said mermaid population, John was happy to see Irene and Cho, practically conjoined twins at this point, coming over. "Hey, i wanted to ask if you guys wanted to come over, Greg asked if we were up for Quidditch. And Cedric just asked Harry so i bet it'll be fun.", Cho said. "Oh and Sherlock, you simply must join us." Sherlock looked up from his watergrass-and-stones collection. "Eh, no." Irene crossed her arms. "Last summer you said you would play if there were more people!" "Irene, i only wanted to test how much the broom could take." "Yes and all that training made you an excellent flyer. Youre coming." She then waved goodbye to John, hooked her arm into Cho's and left. "I dont even know the rules", Sherlock screamed after her. "Youre a fast learner, I'm sure you'll catch up!", Irene yelled back. Sherlock sighed. John on the other hand was amused. 

Irene did not lie, Sherlock flew incredibly good. His movements were precise yet fast, he looked like he was dancing over the sky. "Stop staring, John. Remember the rules!", he said to himself. Harry and Cedric were chasing after the snitch, both lightning fast. The first task was going to go down in only a few days and the two were a bit nervous and constipated but seemed to let the pressure out in the sport. Good for them. John didn't know how to channel his emotions properly. The thought of Sherlock captivated his mind constantly but he did feel like he was betraying both Sherlock and Irene, whom he had grown to like in the last few weeks. The rules were hard to follow. 'John wasnt jealous' and 'John wasn't gay' were part of them after all. But he honestly wasnt. It was just... Sherlock... 

• 

Sherlock had come to terms with his atraction to John. It was fascinating to be honest. If John touched his arm, his arm tingled afterwards. If John whispered in his ear, Sherlock blushed. And if John smiled, Sherlocks heartrate increased significantly. Things like that were usually the kind of things he deduced on other people but experiencing it all himself was... different. With his feelings for John, his "John room" had grown too. He now stored mental images of John, his facial expressions, mostly smiles, his clothes, eyes, smell, the way that he talked, the things he talked about and the things he made him feel in it. He liked spending time in that room. But he liked spending time with John in the present even more. Like right now. Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts and into reality again. They were playing quidditch. Sherlock as chaser. He hit the ball into the ring. John couldnt catch it. "You ARE good at this.", John called out. "Why thank you!" Sherlock replied sarcastically and quickly dodged a bludger. It flew into the general direction of Harry and Cedric who were chatting whilst the snitch reamined unseen. They dodged as well and the bludger got back to Gavin. John had introduced him earlier. Sherlock deduced he wanted to be an auror and was a halfblood. The game was pretty fast since the snitch was caught soon enough. Harry caught it and Cedric was congratulating him on it. They would have to face the first task soon enough. Sherlock already knew it was dragons and was sure they knew too. Harry, chivalrous, brave and magnanimous as he was, probably told Cedric. 

And Sherlock turned out to be correct. A few days later, him and John sat in the Arena, Molly and Mike next to them. Sherlock found them to be less irritating than most people even though Molly seemed to have a crush on him. Mike was quite alright. His girlfriend Stella was an excellent beater and had shown him the proper way to handle his bat a few days prior. Cedric, Fleur, Victor and Harry did the job. Not necessarily in the most effortless way, but they managed. Cedric's transfiguration was good in theory but not perfect in execution. Fleur's sleeping spell was passable at best. It was probably the nerves, back in Beauxbatons he'd seen her cast much better ones. Sherlock almost facepalmed when Krum cast a blindness spell. Over a week of preparation and this was the best he could come up with? Harry's performance was clever, although he was sure he didn't come up with it himself. John was cheering for all of them, concerned about the injuries and positively glowing in the light of the fire. Sherlock couldn't help but sigh. "That boring?" John laughed. Sherlock shrugged. Johns attentions turned back to the field and Sherlock tried his best to shield his facial expression from him, as he was beginning to blush furiously. Oh damn, this was already getting hard to hide. 

• 

Sherlock had predicted all the scores correctly and John applauded in a really sly and sarcastic manner. Sherlock grinned at him widely and John decidedly didn't think about how adorable it looked. After the task, they parted ways. John wanted to congratulate Cedric on his clever idea and Sherlock was dragged to Fleurs celebration. Cedric was, albeit injured, insanely happy. And the Hufflepuffs, knowing where to sneak into the kitchen since they had some friends under the houseelves, had brought lots of food for a small party. He imagined the Gryffindors would celebrate even extremer but he enjoyed the party anyways. Molly, having had a couple butterbeers repeatedly asked him about the whereabouts of his friend Sherlock. Mike was off to see Stella. Because of his intellect he was welcome at the Ravenclaw tower and the couple pften hang out in the common room. "Molly, I think you've had enough", John told her after she started gushing about Sherlock again. "But where is heee???" John laughed. Molly had a crush on Sherlock. Not wanting to hurt Mollys feelings while she was intoxicated and very emotional, he simply replied "with the other French students!" That made enough sense for Molly to leave him alone. He liked her, he really did! But he couldnt handle talking, or even thinking about Sherlocks lovelife right now. John went into his chambers, party mood vanished. He felt a bit awful for not having spent that much time with Molly but tried to ignore the feeling. John soon fell into a restless sleep. 

Of which he was awoken in the middle of the night when someone knocked at the window. John tried to ignore it at first but after a few sets of knocks he left his bed and went to the window and checked. Sherlocks face looked even paler in the moonlight. He opened the window. Sherlock and his broom entered the room. "What are you doing here?" "Pshhhh" Sherlock raised a finger to his lips. When John started to speak again he 'pshh'ed again. John gave him an annoyed glance and so Sherlock started explaining. "The case! I just got invited for a case! Its a robbery so not entirely urgent, but a great way to impress and establish myself!" He was brimming and positively glowing with happiness. "Great but you came all the way out here to tell me this?" Sherlock looked confused. "Yes?" John couldn't help but smile. "So when-" "I'll fly to London soon so I'll be there in the morning. Tomorrow its Sunday. I can spend the day there and return in the evening." John nodded. "That's... amazing, have fun." Sherlock fidgeted. "That's... listen i was wondering... would you- do you want to come with me?" With that he caught John completely off guard. "I... uh" A silence ensued. Sherlocks eyes were piercing into his, trying to read his thoughts or so it seemed. "Yes!", John finally said. "If you want me to that is." Sherlock nodded. "I reckon you dont need any more sleep?" Before John answered, Sherlock already said:"Get ready, ill be waiting for you outside the window." 

And so, about five minutes later, John climbed out the window, fully dressed. He settled on his broom and with a "Colloportus", sealed the door. They descended into the general direction of London. It was cold but Sherlock flew close to him and regularly cast new warming spells on them since they seemed to wear off after a certain time. 

They arrived in London at about 7 AM. Sherlock hailed a cab immediately and they were driven to Scotland Yard. "I wish to speak with D.I. Gregston.", Sherlock told the receptionist with the highest authority he could muster, or so John thought. The detective arrived a few minutes later. She was pretty young, most likely in her twenties and offered Sherlock a brief smile. "Alright. You get to look at the crime scene and do whatever you need to do, no touching though, and afterwards you tell me. I better hope this works, otherwise I'm beheading your brother.", Gregston explained. "There'll be a line." The policewoman chuckled. She eyed John with suspicion but decided against saying anything. They then went to the scene of the robbery. John was honestly a bit nervous. He felt like he wasnt supposed to be here. "What do you say, John?" "Well it must have been a younger person. All the things that are missing are decidedly not adult-related." Sherlock nodded. "Most likely male, around 19-22 id say..." And as he continued to ramble off deductions, John just couldn't help bit stare at him in marvel. In the end he closed the case in less than thirty minutes. They stayed for another 20 minutes for the paperwork to be done and with a "I'll call you the next time i need your help" from the D.I. they were dismissed. Sherlock was actually grinning as tgey descended the stairs. "Care for a bit of food?", he then asked John. And John could just nod. 

They dined in an italian restaurant, Angelo's. The chef had a table ready for them right away. "Just this summer i did him a favour and saved him from a life sentence. He was convincted with urder charges, but Angelo was in a completely different part of town doing robberies." Angelo came up to the table now and asked for their orders. John ordered a Peperoni pizza while Sherlock wanted a lasagna. "Oh and ill get you a candle for you amd your date, it"s more romantic." Sherlock offered Angelo a smile while John offered him a strained "Not his date." Angelo didnt seem to have caught that and simply got a candle for the table anyways. John just nodded firmly and Sherlocks gaze dropped to his meal. 

• 

"Not his date". How defensive he'd been. And why was Sherlock now having an emotional response to this? Its not like he ever had a shot... 

•  
They got back to Hogwarts after the meal. John spent the rest of the day with Greg. And Sherlock spent the rest if the day alone as Irene and Cho had some urgent matters to attend to. And both John and Sherlock tried their hardest to figure out why feelings were so complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy christmas to all who celebrate. im not christian yet i still celebrate it. why? chocolate, duh! 
> 
> oh and the yule ball is coming up so stay tuned!!!


	5. Make the Yuletide Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the yule ball basically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long. I tried to get my typos under control too haha

Sherlock felt like he was walking on eggshells. Not in a literal sense of course. Just around John. After they've returned from the case in London he'd been thinking about the nature of their relationship and, as unusual as it was, he did not come to any conclusion whatsoever. While Sherlock was sure he had feelings for John, he could not imagine what John was feeling for him. And he was figuring it out at a snail's pace. In the areas he would usually feel most confident in his deduction, he failed with John. At first Sherlock thought his abilities were fading. But everyone else's attractions were clear to him, he immediately knew who was dating, who wanted to be dating who, where jealousy reeked and where only mutual disgust laid. But with John he didn't have a clue. 

• 

John was looking at Sherlock over the edge of his cup. He was downing the pumpkin juice like his life depended on it. Molly was glancing at Sherlock too. And Sherlock was rambling off a few of his brilliant deductions again. "No, it's just the mud from the school grounds, but how could you have possibly gotten it onto your robes since the last time I saw you if you didn't meet up with Stella? You don't play Quidditch and it couldn't have been this morning, since the mud would've already been dry by then, remember it rained yesterday evening, not last night!" Mike nodded, a bit fascinated, a bit confused that this boy could tell his romantic walk with his girlfriend from the pattern of mud splashes on the hem of his robes. "So it couldn't have happened any differently. But anyways, how was the date?" Mike smiled with the bare thought of it. "Really nice. We walked alongside the lake and showed each other nice spots on the school grounds we hadn't before. And we ended up kissing before I brought her beck to her dorm." Sherlock did not make any unpleasant or uncalled for comments, just put on a straight face and nodded when Stamford was done. John soundlessly sighed in relief. He was beyond glad Sherlock and his other friends got along. They returned to their meals while Molly opened up about the dream she'd had the night before when the Hufflepuff Head of House, Pomona Sprout walked over to them from a few feet up the table. "Meeting at 4 o'clock this afternoon. For everyone in 4th grade and above it." She smiled and moved on to the next small group where she repeated the message. "The whole house from 4th grade up will meat later?", Molly said, confused. "It would seem so.", Sherlock deadpanned. John gave him a disapproving glance that told Sherlock 'Bit not good. A bit more sociable perhaps?' So Sherlock complied to the silent request. "No idea what for though, any theories?", Molly and Mike weren't sure and John suggested they'd simply find out by attending and dismissed himself and Sherlock. 

"I still don't get why I have to be nice!", Sherlock pouted. John sighed, clearly having been through this already. "Look, they are my friends." "Yes, and they're alright. You three are nice enough for the four of us!" "Sherlock, just try to not be insensitive or mean, okay? I like them and I like you and I just want you to get along." Sherlock nodded amd they went on their way to the feet lesson. 'Did I phrase that wrong?', John wondered while Sherlock just thought: 'John... likes....me ?' 

The meeting at 4 turned out to be a dance lesson. Professor Sprout informed them all about the Yule Ball. Then she picked a partner to demonstrate a few moves with and soon enough the entire room was filled with people looking for a partner. Sherlock naturally turned to him but John, trying not to panic, simply turned to Molly on his other side. So Sherlock shrugged and turned to his other side, which was Cedric Diggory. 

Molly really wasn't the best dancer but neither was he so it wasn't a big deal. John was so focused on not stepping on Mollys feet, he barely noticed the excellence and grace exuding from Sherlock and Cedric. Sherlock, being the better dancer, decided to lead. Their heights matched and so did their steps. The two were waltzing across the room while upholding a conversation. "As a Hogwarts champion I imagine some sort of significance will be put into your attendance at the ball. Any idea who you take as your partner?" Cedric laughed at that. "Trying to woo me?" "Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, I'm sure somebody else has already captured your attentions?" Cedric frowned. "What are you trying to imply?" Sherlock laughed lightly, dipping Cedric elegantly before resuming their waltz across the room. "I'm not implying anything, I just wanted to remark that perhaps joining forces against the other champions might not be the worst idea for the ball." Cedrics mouth fell open. "Did Cho tell you?" Sherlock shook his head. "I'm not blind nor am I stupid." Then Cedric nodded "The deduction thing. Fire away" "Just the way you look at each other." Sherlock almost smiled. "So you really think I should ask him?" Sherlock nodded and ended their conversation with the convenient song change where he simply turned around and took the hand of some Hufflepuff 6th year girl who's name he didn't know. 

John took a break after Molly stomped on his foot for what would have to be the fiftieth time. She flopped onto the seat next to him and practiced a pain-lessening charm on his feet. He immediately felt better. She would make a damn good healer one day, he had to give her that. Johns eyes scanned the dancefloor, wondering how the other people were holding up. Mike was doing surprisingly okay. Cedric on the other hand, must have had some practice beforehand. But then he saw Sherlock. He moved so elegantly and fluid. John couldn't take his eyes off him. 

When the song was over Sherlock went and held out his hand for John to take. "Me?" Sherlock just gave him a disappointed glance. "Yes, you." The 'obviously' didn't even need to be said aloud at this point. John shook his head and let out a strangled laugh. "I can't, no. Sit down." Sherlock did as requested. "I thought you wanted to, judging from the way you were staring at me." John almost choked on air. "I wasn't... Just... just wondering where you learnt to dance like that. Did you do that as a hobby or...?" "Ah. Well maman taught me. She thinks that it is a skill any young man should possess." John nodded, looking straight ahead. "Or woman for that matter, she taught Irene one summer." At that John internally winced with discomfort from being so harshly reminded of Irene but tried his hardest to not let it show on the outside. He couldn't tell whether Sherlock noticed or not. Then the song ended. "I want to catch another dance, this is fun. Do you mind?", Sherlock then asked. "Not at all!" And Sherlock was on the dancefloor again. 'Sweet how considerate he'd been', John thought to himself. 'Wait, not sweet of course'. John sighed. This was hard enough in real life, arguing with himself over it was getting exhausting. 

During the next few days everyone was in a fever of sorts. There was no other topic than the Yule Ball. People who were dating somebody already were coordinating their outfits, dates were being made and a lot of giggling ensued wherever one seemed to go. John for one, was having none of it. He didn't feel like asking somebody, assuming he could hang out with his friends in a group. His mood dropped considerably when Molly got asked out by Greg. They were going as friends of course, but John couldnt really expect to be able to hang out with them since they were likely to spend the evening dancing. Mike and Stella were fairly excited about everything. And he didn't dare to ask Sherlock about it all. John had decided that if he were to avoid the topic completely, no awkwardness and potential friendship-ending situations could ensue. 

One evening in the common room, Molly told them about how even Phillip Anderson got a date. He convinced Sally to accompany him. John groaned at that. He never really liked the boy but recently, after he had insulted Sherlock when finding out about his deductive abilities, John had a deep and passionate hatred for the Gryffindor. Sherlock didn't seem to mind though. He only added that they were dating in secret for a while. Sherlovk then turned back to the fireplace and continued roasting the bugs he apparently needed for an experiment. John, Molly and Mike went back to talk about something else instead. At some point a few of their fellow 5th year Hufflepuffs, Bill, Alex, Sarah and Joana joined them. Bill and Alex talked about the terribly unfair cancelling of quidditch, a topic the boys discussed every now and then, until Joana told them she'd just been asked to the dance. A Slytherin boy named Aaron. John knew him only vaguely but he didn't seem to be an arsehole like the Pureblood supremacists Slytherin had to offer. With the topic being brought up again John lost interest in the converation and looked over to Sherlock grilling his bugs. He looked weirdly calm and happy. John then looked over to Sarah, perhaps she was still am option. He'd liked her in fourth year and they were friendly enough for it not to get weird. Except that she already had a date. Bill Murray sitting next to her. At that point he decided to give up on the ball once and for all and to retire for the night. "Alright, I'm going to turn in for the night", he announced to the group. "Wait", Sherlock now said, gathering his supplies and roasted insects. "I'm finished too, I'll fly out of the window of the dorm, it's much faster and honestly less risky than running through the corridors past curfew." "Yeah mate, you don't want to run into Filch or his cat", Mike warned. "Mrs Norris is vicious!", Alex now said. "I wonder whether they'll dance together!", Bill added which ensued in laughter from the group. 

Sherlock and John ascended the stairs and entered the dorm room. John motioned towards the window and sat down on his bed, pulling off his shoes. "Help yourself!" Sherlock opened the window and cast "Accio Broom" Waiting for the broom to arrive, he turned back to John. "About the ball..." John scoffed at the mere thought of it. He couldn't wait for it to be over already. Sherlock just closed his mouth. "What about it?" But Sherlock never answered. The broom arrived and a pressed "Goodnight" was all he got from Sherlock that evening. 

• 

Sherlock was disappointed. He planned it perfectly. Stayed in the common room as long as John wanted, went to the dorm and asked him there, preferably by the window with the moonlight. That's considered romantic wasn't it? That was the plan. But it didn't work. While browning his egyptian scarab beetles, he sensed John's discomfort whenever the ball was mentioned. Perhaps his plan was falling apart. When ome of the girls brought up the ball again and John looked at him though, he couldnt hep but feel a bit of hope. So, he set his plan into motion. Following him up to the dormitories, Sherlock stood cluelessly in the doorway when John immediately sat down on his bed. Should he sit down too? But John motioned in the general direction of the window and told him to "help himself". So Sherlock did. He felt the nervousness bubbling inside of him. These feelings were getting rather ridiculous. "About the ball...", he started. But he wasn't sure how to ask John. Should he just go for it or should he say something beforehand. Maybe he could also offer John some dancing lessons or...But John scoffed in dismay. As if he knew what was coming and already disagreed. And suddendly Sherlocks idea shattered. Sherlock realised that John didn't want to. 'Alright then, no need to be upset', Sherlock thought, trying to keep his emotions at bay. "What about it?", John wanted to know. Did he really not know? Or was he just pretending to so Sherlock could humiluate himself? But this was John, he wouldn't want to humiliate Sherlock. On the other hand, Sherlock had also not anticipated a reaction that negative without even having posed the question. Sherlock couldn't decide on what to do or say. So when the broom came it was quite a relief. "Goodnight" 

• 

The whole next week John felt like something was up with Sherlock. But John knew that Sherlock didn't like talking about his (supposedly non-existent) emotions, so he didn't press it. They continued to spend their time together and joke and exchange notes in class and brew potions and... 'Wow we are spending an awful lot of time together, aren't we?', John asked himself. When John saw Sherlock and Irene come into the Great Hall one morning, in deep conversation, he was glad that somebody was able to reach through to Sherlock and talk about whatever's been troubling him. After the couple parted ways, Sherlock looked much happier and more hopeful. He even smiled at John slightly when he sat down. "So the Yule Ball is this weekend", was the first thing talked about in the morning. Mike wriggled his eyebrows. "Johnnyboy, have you got anyone?" Sherlock now looked much more interested in the conversation now. John shook his head. Sherlock opened his mouth but closed it again when John gave him a questioning look. "I dont even want to go, if I'm honest. But it's mandatory, so I'll go alone. And no, I haven't got a date, because I don't want one." John now looked into the general direction of Cedric and Joana, so he didn't notice Sherlock slightly gulping. But when he did look at Sherlock again the joy and hope had left his eyes. 

The days went by and Christmas was fast approaching. They didn't talk about the Yule Ball. John never mentioned it and Sherlock didn't bring it up either. John didn't even remark on the other boy's dancing skills when they found a distraught-looking Molly on the school grounds, hopelessly trying to practice dancing and in dire need of a partner so of course Sherlock swooped in and saved her day by explaining the steps to her again and waltzing across the snow with her. This ignorance held up. And so, John prepared for the Yule Ball alone, not having heard a word from Sherlock all day. He figured Sherlock would probably be spending time with his girlfriend before the big ball and tried not to think of it anymore. 

John had put on his dress gown and was combing his hair. The other boys in his room had already left for the ball, yet he was hoping to avoid it for as long as he could. If he showed up late, perhaps nobody would even notice him and he could have a quiet night free of dancing or drama. But John felt silly after having brushed through this hair for the hundredth time as it seemed. 

He descended the stairs into the Hufflepuff common room and found Cedric Diggory, hopelessly trying to transfigurate some small object into a flower. "No, I don't want that, that's ghastly... a rose? too clichee. How about- no", the sixth year boy was murmuring. John approached carefully. "Everything alright?" "Trying to make a flower." "Trust me Ced, you're an ace at transfigurations, whatever it is, Cho will love it." Cedric looked at him in confusion but tried again. "Did you ask him, by the way?", Cedric asked after taking the unidentifiable flower into hand and walking towards the portrait entry. John stepped through. "Ask who?", he laughed. "Sherlock, of course." John laughed at that. Which made Cedric even more confused. "You're serious?" The champion nodded. "Sherlock is obviously going with his girlfriend." "Girlfriend?" "Yes, girlfriend. Who else would he be going with?" They were approaching the party, as the noises started to get louder. "Who is this girlfriend?" "Irene of course, I thought you knew!" Cedric stopped walking. "Irene is going out with Cho." John turned around. "What are you talking about, Cho is your date!" Cedric was now the one laughing. "What are YOU talking about, I asked Harry. Cho and Irene are dating and Sherlock and Irene are most definitely not a couple." Johns face suddendly flushed and Cedric laid an arm around his shoulder. "Hey, it's alright... oh wow." Then Cedric let go of his shoulder again because one Harry Potter was waiting in an emerald green cloak for him. "I'll see you later!", he called out to John. 

John had never felt so stupid. Was this really true? In the Great Hall, now very winter-y decorated, he didn't see Sherlock anywhere. But that might have been accounted to the fact that everyone was excitedly jumping around and waiting for the champions to arrive. And really- Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger, Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies and Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory entered the hall. Cho was nowhere to be seen. Excelt that he spotted her, leaning at a table nearby. Irene was standing very close to her. He huffed. Had he really gotten it all wrong? 

When the feast was over and the dancing time finally arrived, John spotted Sherlock on the dancefloor. He apparently didn't have a date, but everyone kept switching it up anyways so it was not like anyone noticed, or cared for that matter. He thought Sherlock tried to approach him when they both went in the same direction, but he just asked Mike's girlfriend, Stella, for a dance, since Mike was dancing with Molly at the moment. Mike! He needed to ask Mike whether he knew about Sherlocks not-relationship with Irene. "Excuse me", he mumbled and tapped on Mikes shoulder. "Care for a dance?" Mike laughed. "Sure, whatever." They turned to Molly who nodded them off as one of the Durmstramg boys stepped closer, asking for her hand. "Did you know that Sherlock and Irene aren't dating?", he half-whispered. "Umm yeah", Mike responded, now looking at a point behind John's shoulder. John turned them around and saw Irene and Cho dancing closely. "That doesn't mean anything..." "But this does", Mike said in that same 'John-are-you-being-serious-right-now' voice. John looked again and they were now snogging. "Yeah, got it", he let out, a bit ashamed. He let go of Mike and turned around, walking off to sit at a table and question his life decisions. "You'd never believe what a brilliant dancer Jim is!", Molly squealed behind him. 

John sat down and thought about Sherlock. He was seeing him in a whole new light. "Ahem", he heard from before him. He was so focused he didnt realise someone approaching. It was the very boy that John was thinking about. "Fancy a dance?" He just took the hand and let himself be led onto the dancefloor. 

Sherlock really was an incredible dancer. While John was trying his hardest not to trip over his friend's feet, Sherlock kept up a light conversation, informing him about the people abandoned by their dates and all the other interesting things occurring. 

"Sherlock", John started. "Listen, I was wondering..." Sherlock was all ears. "You..." John didn't know how to put it. Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "Are you dating Irene?" Now Sherlock was confused. "Irene?" John nodded. "You thought I was dating Irene?" John nodded again. "I'm gay.", he bluntly said. "Oh..." "And so is she." "Yeah..." "And she's also my cousin." "Wait what?" The two had stopped dancing, standing at the side of the dancefloor, staring at each other in disbelief. "Yes, why else would she be at the Holmes Manor?" "I thought she was your girlfriend." "Girlfriends aren't really my area, like I said." "But why did you tell me you were together?", John now asked. "I didn't?" "Yes, you did. At the library." Sherlock thought back to that day. "You asked me if she was my special friend. She's a friend. And she's special. And doesn't her status as my cousin qualify her as a special friend? You're a special friend." John blushed furiously. "No, i thought you meant a romantic..." Sherlock looked up to the sky. "I see." "Look, I'm sorry", John apologised. "No, it's me who should apologise, I didn't know what special implied." "I hope this doesn't make things awkward between us.", John now admitted. "So do I. Another dance?" John politely declined. So Sherlock shrugged and asked the next best person, a Gryffindor girl. "Oh, Viktor's getting me a drink. I'm sure he won't mind though." John on the other hand went back to his table. He was stunned. How wrong he'd been. Not even five minutes later he retired for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. feedback much appreciated <3


	6. Happy Christmas (nevermind it being febuary)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> christmas break, a case and the second task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING, this chapter contains violence and homophobia. John's father is an abusive piece of shit

Sherlock had gone away for winter break, taking Irene with him. John, now a lot more comfortable around Irene bade both of them farewell. He was aware that the two would be returning to the Holmes manor to celebrate 'a meaningless ordeal once having belonged to a belief system restricting human rights but nowadays turned into a sentimental family reunion holiday'. Or 'Christmas', as Irene and John put it. Before leaving, Irene patted John's shoulder. Sherlock hugged a dumbfounded John who carefully patted his back. They seperated. Irene nodded at her cousin and the two disappeared through the fireplace. John himself tried to delay his arrival at home for as long as possible. But eventually time went out and he got up and flooed himself to King's Cross, where he took the train as planned. 

▪︎ 

Sherlock stepped out of the large fireplace into the living room. Irene and him bumped together. They then brushed it off and left their things on the ground next to the fireplace to look for their relatives. The first they found was, unfortunately, Mycroft. "Well hello brother mine, hello Irene." "Hi", Irene answered, Sherlock only scoffed. "Where's maman?" Mycroft pointed behind himself. "She's been trying to get me to eat her biscuits", he added. "As if you'd need any help in getting fat", Sherlock said while brushing past his brother. Irene surpressed her giggle. 

They found both Sherlock's and Irene's mother in the salon. "Sherlock!", she exclaimed happily as she saw him. They both stood up from the Chaiselongue to hug their children respectively. "Oh Irene, comment était l'école?", Adina asked her daughter. "C'était assez bien.",Irene responded. And Sherlocks mother: "Oh, Sherlock, tu a encore grandi, n'est-ce pas?" "Peut-être un peu. Maman, arrête tellement de toucher mes cheveux!", Sherlock pouted, concerned for the wellbeing of his hair. She smiled at him. "Faible Sherlock, toujours inquiet pour ses cheveux.", Irene mocked him. Sherlock shot her an annoyed stare. Which soon turned into a death stare as another voice was heard. "Il avait toujours été trés dramatique.", Mycroft smiled. "How's the diet?" His brother grinned nastily. "Very well, thank you for asking." "Liar", Sherlock added under his breath. Mycroft must've heard him though, as he now drew in a sharp breath. 

Christmas was fine. Sherlock was a bit bummed. Mycroft's presence and John's lack of presence worsened his otherwise fairly good mood. He was happy to see his mother. Christmas was tedious, sure. But he was able to tend to some of his experiments in his room, a tentaculus plant where he used bubotubler juice to water the plant, the felix felicis that had been brewing for about six months now and the collection of materials that had rapidly grown as Sherlock emptied his pockets. 

The Christmas Dinner was fine too. Sherlock was used to eating now. John's influence really changed him. So Sherlock actually finished a plate full of food. His mother was surprised but wisely decided not to comment. His father entertained him with some musings on the botanic experiment in Sherlocks room, he had watched over it for a bit as it was highly dangerous and possibly lethal. Sherlock was glad to hear about the experiments changes in detail and his father was happy to talk about plants as he was a hobby gardener. 

Meanwhile, Irene and her parents were catching up and Mycroft stuffed his face with food. In the evening, Mycroft told them about his ministry position. 'Them' being everyone but Sherlock, who didn't listen but instead walked around in his Mind Palace. "Sherlock, did you even listen?" "Eh, nope." Mycroft sighed. Irene patted Mycroft on the back. "I know how you feel. In a week I'll be left all alone with him again, enjoy the time you have." "What is there to enjoy?", Mycroft replied, tired of this. "Certainly not your never-ending anecdotes about the Minister.", Sherlock snapped back. Mycroft rolled his eyes. Their parents surpressed laughter and told all of them not to talk to each other like that. And tge rest of the evening was just a blur of biscuits, french chatter and John in his mind. 

▪︎ 

TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE, ABUSE, INJURY 

John arrived at the train station and was picked up by his mother. She immediately hugged him. "John. I can't believe you're home, I've missed you!" She pressed kisses to his cheeks. John smiled at her. Her eyes had dark circles under them and her eyes were tired. "I've missed you too, Ma" 

They drove home in the small family car and John told her a bit about his year so far. She nodded along, not understanding a thing. But he tried to get as much out of this precious window of time before arriving home, told her about the fantastical things he'd experienced. She told him a bit about home. And her friends. She said she'd been to a friend's house a few days ago. "That's nice, Ma", John said happily. But then the car stopped. And he unloaded his small holiday bag, having left the rest at Hogwarts. She took his hand briefly and they entered. The sound of the telly rang through the entire house. And the smell of beer filled the air. It was 5 o'clock. John didn't try to talk to his father. It would only end in conflict. He didn't spare his son one look, only grunting at the presence of his wife, since he needed another bottle of beer. 

The next day was Christmas eve. Shouting was heard throughout the entire day. "How ironic", John thought. They all went to church. It was tradition. And his mum insisted. And he didn't want to upset her so he just went along. Later, at the dinner table, his father glared in Johns general direction. John ignored it. If he did anything wrong, he knew he'd miss the blessed silence. Thankfully, Ma brought dinner. They started eating until they heard a knock on the door. "I'll go", John said, desperate to get away from the table. 

It was Harry. She smiled at him widely. He couldn't help but smile back. Harry was a mess but she was his big sister. He obviously loved her. She entered and hung up her jacket before he could even think about the situation that would occur. They entered the kitchen "Happy Christmas!", his sister proclaimed jollily. Then their mothers fork hit the floor. "You cannot be in here, Harriet." She looked scared and angry at once. "Its Christmas eve, surely-", Harry started but she was interrupted by their father "Get the fuck out of here, faggot." He slammed his fist on the table. Harry apparently thought they'd gotten over it by now. "No, it's Christmas, i want to celebrate with my family...", she started, trying to make it better. "No dyke is part of my family, get out!" Harry's face went from happy to ice-cold. "As much as you'd like that to be true, i am still your daughter." And with that she sat down at the table. That was it. Their father arose, taking one big stride across the room and sinking his fist onto his daughters face with terrible speed amd power. A sickening crack filled the room. Harry's whole face was bleeding. She screamed. Their mother let out a soft "no, please", but only flinched at the hit. John, in complete shock, dropped to the floor, looking at Harry's red face. "And what do you think you're doing, boy? Helping disgusting trash? You're just as unnatural as she is." He kicked John, who was trying to carry his sister away, in the knees. John fell immediately. His father was now laughing nastily. Despite the overwhelming pain, he stood up, turned around and punched his father in the face. The former soldier didnt take that lightly. So John, wanting to stay alive, helped Harry up again and they fled the house. 

"I'm sorry, John.", Harry apologized. They were sitting in her flat eating a Christmas-worthy feast: biscuits and crisps. "It's not your fault." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have stopped by." To that John shook his head. "It's Christmas eve." He didnt know how much he should talk to his sister. She wasn't exactly reliable. "You actually texted me for a bit.", she then said timidly. "Well the net at Hogwarts is weird. You'd probably be better off sending me owls.", John replied stiffly. "Thank you. Not only for the texting but also for that back there." Neither of them were good with words. "John, i hope that you know that i love you and that im there for you" He tried not to but let out a surprised laugh. "I know i havent in the past but im trying to now. I've been clean since August. I went to rehab. And i have a job. I'm really trying and i want it to work. I dont want to lose you." He looked straight into her eyes. "I know. I dont want to lose you either. And i know its hard for you. With mum and dad and Clara and everything." She attempted a small smile. "Its not easy for you either. Text me when you're gone again? If you want you can stay here in summer. Instead of at their place i mean." He nodded. 

After their glorious dinner and a Doctor Who rewatch, John tended to Harry's nose again. He did so first thing when entering the flat, his quick hands creating a makeshift bandage for her nose. Now he was checking again. He would heal it with magic but it was sadly illegal for him to do outside of school. And Harry hated hospitals. 

John spent the rest of his winter break at Harry's. He borrowed her clothes, his bag at their parents house. He had fortunately not brought amy school equipment back home with him, just some clothes and the dogtags. John felt like these dogtags reminded him that his father had been a good man. He wore them with the image of a caring father in mind. It felt right to leave that behind. 

He returned to Hogwarts two weeks later. He was overjoyed to see Sherlock and his other friends again, albeit a bit sad to leave his sister behind. But they promised to keep in touch and once Sherlocks eyes met his, his worried were forgotten. They embraced each other quickly, stepping away again after the blink of an eye. John was still a bit confused because apparently they hugged now. But they grinned at each other and exchanged stories of their holidays. 

Sherlock had been excited all day. Noone could tell, as he behaved no different from usual. Noone except John. He saw that Sherlocks posture was even straighter than usual (which he could only think ironically after the events of the yule ball), his eyes were fluttering from one person to another, his usual staring much quicker finished. And there was a slight shiver in his hands, that he flexed more often than usual. And if you looked at him very carefully, you could see a small smile grazing his lips ever so often. Class, having started a few days prior again, seemed to go by slower than usual. John kept wondering what Sherlock was so excited about that he actually didn't pay attention in class. Normally, Sherlock would act like he didn't care about the lessons, as he most likely already knew everything taught in them, but still keep an open ear for all of it. But not that day. That day he was actually lost in thoughts. 

But it all got revealed to John once they left the last class. Because Sherlock dragged him by the robes into the Hufflepuff common room and started jinxing the fireplace. "What are you doing?" "Demolishing this enough so this part of the floo network won't show up in the ministry's tracking." Johns eyebrows furrowed. "Where are we going?" Sherlock gave him his 'isn't-it-obvious?' look. "Crime scene". 

And then Sherlock explained to him that he'd gotten a personal client. A former Beauxbatons student who had gotten taken out of school after the death of her sister had sent him an owl. She was scared and suspected to be murdered, just like her sister. Not knowing what else to do, she remembered Sherlock and written to him immediately. After the fireplace had let off a little steam and a few sparks, Sherlock also enchanted the floo powder. "Repeat my words." Then Sherlock called out "Stoke Moran". John did as he was told and the two were transported to a living room. A girl about 3 years older than them was sitting impatiently in front of the fire, desperately awaiting Sherlock. "Helen.", he greeted. She nodded, eyeing John with suspicion but not speaking up about it. "My stepfather is not home as of now. Please, you must help me!" 

The three went up to her room, priorly inhabited by her now deceased sister. "Last night I heard something. I dont know what to do, i think i might die!" She went on to explain that even before her sister had died, she had complained about certain noises bothering her at night. Helen then told them that whem she got back from Beauxbatons she wasn't even able to see her body. And now that she was back after a year abroad, ahmught be next. "You see, this residence is of importance to some of the pureblood wizards. If I were to die, I'm not sure who would inherit it." "Well, what about your stepfather?", John asked. Helen looked surprised. Sherlocks eyes were scanning the room. "And it only ever happened at night?" Helen nodded. "And last night you awoke because of-", Sherlock started. "The noises. Any idea? Sherlock you're always ao full of ideas, you must have something!" He faced her. "I do. And I'll investigate tonight." Fear striked her features. "But my stepfather! He doesn't allow me to meet up with my friends, I doubt he'll allow two boys to sleepover!" Sherlock granted himself a grin worthy of the Cheshire cat. "He won't even know." 

Helen sat down at dinner with her stepfather. They mostly ate in silence. Every now and then he would remark upon the taste of the good and she'd agree. Then, she excused herself. "I'll be off now. I plan to read." He dismissed her. Helen then spent about an hour sitting on her bed until her stepfather checked in with her. "I'll go to my room now as well. Good night." He closed the door. It was dark outside. Helen opened the window. John and Sherlock promptly got onto the broom at the signal and flew into her room. They landed without a sound. Then Helen took hold of the broom, mouthed a "Good Luck", and flew into the night. 

"So what exactly is the plan?", John whispered. "I've told you." The crease between John's eyebrows deepened. "Sherlock, you said, and I quote: "As for us, we've got a plan. As soon as we're in, you take the broom and go out. Get yourself somewhere safe where you can spend the night." Sherlock tore his eyes away from him. "We wait. Might as well make yourself comfortable.", Sherlock gestured towards the bed. Johns eyebrows met his hairline. They sat onto it and Sherlock set his shoes onto the ground next to the coat he'd shed. John carefully did the same and climbed under the covers as well. Sherlock turned towards him. In the pitch-dark room John couldn't even see his friend's face. But he felt Sherlocks breath ghosting against his neck. "The wall. There's a passage, there must be. We cannot fall asleep. Whatever comes out of it is what killed Helens sister." 

▪︎ 

Not sleeping wasn't a problem for Sherlock. He could control his system enough to miss a night or two of sleep without being affected by it in the slightest. John seemed to hold up just fine as well. They stopped talking in fear of overhearing the sound and only heard the others breath now. Then, the wood creaked. A door was opened and someone was stepping into the hallway. It was getting closer to them. Dr. Roylott had decided to check on Helen a second time. Sherlock got onto his side and drew John closer to him. He slid his hand over John's mouth and tried to cover his body with his own. John's breath hitched. The door opened. All that Dr. Roylott saw was a lithe figure covered in sheets with black, curly hair sticking out on the pillow. Clearly it was Helen. 

▪︎ 

Sherlocks hand was touching his lips. Sherlocks chest was pressed against his side. And Sherlocks leg was wrapped over John's. John only hoped that Sherlock would account his heart beating faster to the possibility of being caught, not the contact between their bodies. 

The door closed again. Then Sherlock's hand released John's face. John breathed out. They moved under the sheets so that Sherlock wasn't pressing his full weight into John anymore. John didn't dare say anything. 

▪︎ 

Sherlock laid flat on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. What had he been thinking? John must've thought he'd tried to make a move on him. This was neither the right place nor time. He let out a deep breath. Then he heard it. The noise. It was a quiet sizzling sound. Almost like a hiss. Johns breath stopped. And his hand found Sherlock's. Sherlock was surprised but squeezed the hand. He then pulled John upright, climbing out of the bed and onto the floor. Their hands had seperated. Sherlock was now leaning against the wall, kneeling on the floor. John was right next to him. There was the noise again. Instinctively they joined hands. It got louder. And they now both saw the passage. And Sherlock slammed his wand in and cast the spell "Expulso" and centered it into the passage so that a wave of pressure was sent through it. Moments later the hissing sound was heard once again and a strangled moan of pain was also audible. Sherlock tugged John up, hands still locked. They opened the door and went from the hallway into the room next to them. 

Dr. Roylott was laying on the floor very dead. In his fist a hissing snake. Its head was speckled with gold and yellow. Sherlock sent the snake into the air, flying at a safe distance. John checked the man's pulse. Helen's stepfather ended his own life in an attempt to take hers. 

▪︎ 

They got back very early in the morning. Sherlock wasn't very tired but John insisted that he'd also take a sip of the wideye potion Sherlock had given him. Aside from the glee and pride the two felt, the next day was like any other. They went to classes together and exchanged notes in class . 

(S:"i bet i can steal the apple off of mirandas desk before she transforms her egg into a full-grown chicken"   
J:"alright how much do you bet"   
S:"if I dont manage, I'll do whatever you want"   
J:"whatever I want?"  
S:"my side of the bet doesn't really matter, 'cause I will win."  
J:"so convinced. alright, what do you want from me if you do manage?"  
S:" I'm sure i can think of something") 

Sherlock retrieved the apple without Miranda or McGonagall noticing. Of course, without magic, otherwise it would've been cheating. About 40 seconds after Sherlock sat down with the apple in hand, Mirandas egg cracked and exploded into something mildly resembling a chicken. Sherlock and John, of course, reacted completely calm and didn't laugh one bit. 

John almost forgot about the favour he owed Sherlock. But when they were going down the stadium to the second task, Sherlock nudged his arm. Johns arms were covered in thick wool and a scarf was thrown around his neck. Sherlock was not dressed weather-appropriately at all. His gangly limbs were only covered by the beauxbatons uniform, much too light to withstand these temperatures. A few feet ahead of them, Irene snuggled into Cho's jacket. John didnt even bring one, he was wearing multiple layers and a warm jumper. "John", Sherlock said faintly, nudging his arm again. "John, do you remember Mirandas apple? The one I stole in transfiguration?" John looked at him. He took in Sherlocks reddened cheeks, pale complexion and the goosebumps visible on the neck. "What favour do you want?" Sherlock pointed to Johns chest. "One of these hideous things. I don't mean to freeze to death." And so John accio'd the oatmeal coloured jumper over to them and Sherlock pulled it over his head while muttering insults at the 'hideous' clothing article. 

It has been twenty minutes since Harry, Cedric, Fleur and Victor went in and Sherlock's teeth were clapping together. So John took off his scarf and tied it around the neck of his confused friend. And noone was to know he scooted closer to Sherlock, sharing a bit of his body heat. 

When Fleur got out early without her sister, Sherlock guessed that the Grindelohs took her down. Soon it was announced that he was correct. "The markings on her arm". was Sherlocks explanation. John was shivering now, no longer having his scarf, and Sherlock scooted closer until their shoulders, hips and thighs were touching sideways. That warmed John up for a slightly different reason, but worked nonetheless. 

They spent the remainder of the task distracting each other. Sherlock deduced a few people under his breath and John told him things he didn't know or deduce. So when Cedric arrived first, with Krum following, they started wondering about Harry's absence. "Maybe the mermaids have taken him hostage" "Don't be silly, why would they do that?" 

When Harry arrived in the end, they listened to the announcement and then got up as quickly as possible, wanting to escape the cold temperatures. They congratulated Cedric and Harry on their way out and then pushed past them, jogging up the hill. Soon enough they were both curled up with blankets in front of the Hufflepuff dorm fireplace. They were missing out on the celebrations but as it turned out, they were also missing out on the cold everybody else caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also im sorryyyy that its taking so long, I'm just not really that motivated. the chapters are also getting longer and I dont want to disappoint after 1 month with a short chapter....
> 
> also i hope my no beta problem isn't that bad anymore.


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